Summons from the King
by Thais of the Star
Summary: Galbatorix has taken women before, always for pleasure: often violent. But this woman is different. And he feels it would be impossible for him to harm her. A new feeling towards a woman, for him.


_Disclaimer_: I don't own anything of the original Alagasia.

Summons from the King

With a shaky breath Lysir stepped into the king's chambers. None were summoned here lightly, and she was afraid of what it could mean for her. She had left Rui pacing anxiously in the lower levels of the castle, and hoped that he would not give away his feelings towards her by doing anything rash. For their unborn child's sake, she hoped he would live.

"You sent for me, my lord?" she asked uncertainly, looking around. It was dark, and she could just see to keep from stumbling over on on furniture.

"Come here, girl," the voice of Galbatorix told her. She cautiously felt her way in his direction until she bumped into the bed and, off-balance, stumbled onto it.

Imidiantly she scrambled to her feet with a gasp, heat racing. "My lord, I'm sorry-" she began, but a hand on her arm made her freeze.

"Hush," the voice whispered. "Sit beside me." The hands the voice belonged to guided her to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed. Lysir tried to look at Galbatorix, but couldn't see his face in the deep shadows. The only light came from a failing fire place. She swallowed; she just wanted to hear whatever scolding he was going to give and get away from this dark room.

"Did you require me for anything, my lord king?" she asked hesitantly. He still hadn't let go of her forearms. "I'm afraid I haven't completed my tasks in the kitchen-" Again he silenced her, this time with a hand over her mouth. She fought the urge to wrench away from his hold and held still, though her heart began pounding and her breath quickened.

Slowly he lowered the hand to her neck, twisting around her body and arms with the other arm. "My lord?" she asked, beginning to tremble. How could she refuse his touch? As the king, everything and everyone in Alagasia was his to do with what he wanted to.

"Hush," he said again, putting his hand against her collarbone and chest. Lysir smothered a scream and went ridged in his arms. Tears started in her eyes as she looked up into the dark where is face would be. Slowly he pressed her back on the bed and she began to gasp and perspire as she trembled. Suddenly his hands were at the lacing of her dress, opening it. She was aware that his hands were shaking and his breath was becoming harsh and demanding. Desicively he pulled open her bodice. Her hands clenched in the blankets on the bed.

"No!" she cried, trying to wrench free of him. "Stop!" He put a hand between her breasts, and she knew he could feel her wildly thumping heart.

"Lie still, lovely one," he told her, lips an inch away from hers. But when he put a hand beneath her skirt to rub her inner thigh she pulled away, thrashing against him as tears began to fall again. "Be still!" he commanded, taking her wrists, and she paused, still tense and ridged against his hard body. He was her king. She was his to do with as he willed.

"No," she whispered weakly, feebly trying to free herself. "Please... don't...!" Tears ran down her face as she bit her lip, eyes closed. "Don't..."

He forced his body on top of hers, prying her legs wide. With all the strength she could muster she wrenched herself out from under him, sliding to the floor. In an instant she was on her feet again and ready to run but an instant was all he needed. He grabbed her about the waist

As he pushed her skirt up around her waist she knew it was over. Even if he hadn't been her king, he was too strong, both physically and magically. There was no fighting him in this.

Her head rolled to the side and her body went limp beneath his. "Mother save me," she whispered brokenly. Nothing could be done. He would take her, claim her for his own use.

She would never see Rui again. "Rui..." Lysir whispered her lover's name, and her eyes closed in utter defeat. Even if she never saw him again, the child they had made together, the child growing in her womb right now, would be raised as a bastard of the king.

000

Galbatorix, holding her form in his arms, felt her go limp in despair. He heard her last pleas to her mother and someone named Rui.

He was panting and gasping with the anxious relief he eagerly awaited from his long anticipation of holding her in his arms and knowing she belonged to him. He paused as he was about to enter inside her. Many women he had taken as whores, some he had even felt affection for. Most had fought him, or aided him in his pleasure-taking, or just let him do as he would with their beautiful bodies, crying out all the while.

But Lysir...

Never before had a woman seemed so utterly uncaring. He would have thought her unconcious but for the tears that still ran from her eyes. Never before had a woman so collapsed. Her head lolled to one side, eyes closed. Galbatorix wondered why he paused now, gazing down at her.

She was just another woman, another pleasure-toy, only good as long as her body was young.

Wasn't she?

Then why did he not take her, fulfill the desires that tore at him from within, regardless of how she was reacting? Why now did he pause, looking at Lysir with more tenderness than lust in his heart? What was it about her that gave him so strong an urge to care for her gently?

Slowly, with every ounce of will in his soul, he pushed his lust away, straddling her thighs as he pulled her gently into a sitting position with one arm about her body and one still between her breasts. Lysir came out of the state of dark despair that had set upon her. She looked up at Galbatorix, confused.

He had had her totally in his power, then hesitated. Now he raised both hands to her bosom. With an involuntary gasp she flinched away again, holding up her arms as if to protect herself, then stilled as he took the lacing of her bodice in his hands. She bowed her head. No, he had not let her go. He still straddled her open legs and was about to tear her dress away from her. Her eyes closed again. Would it go on this way still longer? Defeat, false hope, capitulation again at his hands?

The seconds lengthened and he simply held the laces on his open palms. Then, slowly, he touched her chest again. But this time he was putting in the long laces. Lysir looked up at him again in shock and confusion as he took his hands away. Afraid he might change his mind, she touched the long leather thongs without taking her eyes from his face. She could see him now, she reflected distantly. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

But his face was still unreadable. "My lord?" she whispered. He slowly pulled both his legs to the side of her.

"Go," was all he said. She slid off the bed and arranged her skirts with trembling fingers. As she straightened he reached out with one hand and gently took one of hers. Again she began to quiver, but he only raised it to his lips once, his eyes never once leaving hers. "Farewell, lady Lysir," he told her.

"Farewell, my lord king," she whispered, eyes downcast. Her pain was too much for him to bear. An enormous sensation swept over the king of Alagasia. He had never felt it before, but there was no mistaking it now: love.

Before she could turn Galbatorix stood up off the bed, still holding her hand. She took a step back, but he took two swift ones forward and wrapped his arms around her again. Lysir's lips parted in a gasp, looking up into his face with eyes once more so sorrowful it took his breath away. He still felt lust for her, but it was tempered by her choices, and her fears.

He suddenly pulled her close, securing her in an unbreakable but not harsh grip, and kissed her with every ounce of passion he held, oblivious to her startled attempts to pull away. Long and deep he buried his mouth in hers with closed eyes, becoming more gentle and less fiery after his initial burst of loving cruelty and bestiality.

At first she attempted to tear away from him as he knew she would, but after several seconds Galbatorix became aware that she was no longer franticaly trying to free herself, but letting him hold her unresisting body tightly. Her arms were pinned against his chest, but she was not struggling against him. As the hard passion abated and he kissed her with more consideration and tenderness he also felt her timidly respond to his mouth. Gently he lingered for a long while, allowing her the chance to see him not as a king, a dragonrider, a magic-user, or as the harsh monster who had tried to rape her moments earlier, but simply as he was: a man in love with her.

He found more pleasure in that kiss than he had in any sexually stimulating experiance with any woman before, willing or no. As Lysir became more outgoing, returning the kiss more firmly and less shyly, he allowed his arms to relax around her body and gently caressed her cheek with one hand, keeping his other arm to support her. She was so small, he realized. So fragile. And so unthinkably dear to him.

Her own hand ran through his hair, then she twined her arms about his neck. Galbaorix responded by holding her sides gently with his hands. Suddenly, feeling something, one of his hands went to her belly. She pulled away as he held onto her tightly once more, feeling the small, hard lump on her stomach.

He looked down at her, eyes unreadable as he ran his fingers over the lump. Her enlarged womb, holding a child. The seed of another man inside her body. Lysir closed her eyes in pain, putting her own hand on the slight swelling, as if to protect her baby from harm, or to reassure herself, or simply because his hand was there as well. She opened her eyes, met Galbatorix's once, then looked away.

"He loves me," she whispered. "I- I _thought_ what I felt towards him was love as well."

"Was it?" the man asked her without emotion.

The answer was in her eyes as she gazed up at him suddenly. "It was... and it remains so. What will I do?" she asked helplessly. Her sadness made him react again, pulling her into his arms again. Lysir leaned her head against his chest.

Galbatorix said nothing. Gently he put a hand to her face, cupping her cheek and chin in his palm, and tilted her face up towards him. Allowing their lips to touch ever so slightly in a kiss he ran a hand through her long dark hair. "If you are truly happy with him," he said softly, "you should stay with him. But know this: I will remain here, and I will watch you every day."

He kissed her one last time and released her. "Go now, Lysir. But remember that I love you as I love no other woman. No matter the distance between us. And I will _always_ love you."


End file.
